


La Chocolaterie

by angryschnauzer



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 18+, Angst, Chapter 2 Tags:, Chapter 3 Tags, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Food/Chocolate play, Grinding, NSFW, Nipple Play, Oral (Female receiving - oh god so much oral), Oral Sex, Rated Explicit for future chapters, blowjob, shower shenanigans, sixty nine, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 09:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12814413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryschnauzer/pseuds/angryschnauzer
Summary: You run a small Chocolate shop in the French Alps and your ‘help wanted’ sign goes ignored for months… until one day a handsome stranger with a troubled past comes into your life.Set in the December following the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is written as my entry to @lovelynemesis‘s #samsrockinwritingchallenge where my prompt was ‘Hot Chocolate’ and i chose Bucky as my main character. This fic is heavily influenced by the movie ‘Chocolat’, and although doesn’t follow the same story line, it is the general aesthetic i was going for.

La Chocolaterie – Part 1

Standing on the damp cobble stones outside your little store you smiled at the completed window display, the twinkling lights and the sprigs of pine giving it the perfect look. Your gaze landed on the small sign that still stood propped against the inside of the window; ‘Help Wanted’. With a sigh you wrapped your scarf tighter around yourself before stepping back inside.

When you’d inherited the little Chocolate Shop in the French Alps you had been ecstatic, it had always been your dream to follow in your Aunt and Uncle’s footsteps after their untimely demise, but after a few months it became clear it was harder than it looked. You had the skill of the craft, you could create delicious treats that would entice even the healthiest of person, but it was the more physical work that was the thief of time; servicing the machinery, taking in the large heavy sacks of cocoa beans from which you’d grind your very own cocoa, spending long hours in the bake room preparing the dough for the chocolate dipped cookies. This was the reason for the sign in the window; you needed help.

Setting your scarf over the small chair behind the counter, you tied your apron and got back to work, working on a batch of dough to make the next orders of quaint gingerbread houses you sold. You were deep in thought as the little bell over the door tinkled, and you called out as you were attempting to handle the large metal trays with the yet to be baked dough into the ovens;

“Un minute sil vous plait!”

Your attempt at multitasking however failed, and with two very loud crashes the trays toppled to the floor, tipping the gingerbread onto the floury tiles.

“Meurtre” you cursed under your breath, only then looking up as you saw a pair of heavy work boots stop near to one of the trays. Your gaze followed the boots up a pair of long legs and lean body until you saw the piercing grey-blue eyes that peered out at you from beneath a cap; “Bonsoir Monsieur”

“Oh... hi...” His voice was deep yet soft, and it immediately captured you in just three short words: “Can I help?”

You saw he was holding your sign from the window, a kind smile now spreading over his face. He set a small backpack down on the floor, bending to pick up the metal tray. You started to talk, but then remembering he’d spoken English, you attempted to remember your English lessons from school;

“You are looking for work Monsieur?”

He nodded;

“Yes, and please; call me Bucky”

“Ok Bucky”

You went on to explain that it wasn’t well paid, but you would provide room and board in the apartment above the store where you lived. The work would be early mornings with long days, but none of that seemed to faze him, instead he eagerly accepted.

“So when can you start?” you asked

“Well... I’m here now...”

“Do you want to bring in any more of your things?”

He glanced at the small backpack;

“This is all that I have”

-

Over the next week you settled into a routine and found Bucky a surprisingly considerate housemate. He was in and out of the bathroom before you’d even woken, there was always hot water left for your shower, and by the time you made it to the kitchen the coffeepot was waiting for you on the small wood burning stove in the corner.

That morning he was no-where to be seen, but as you poured yourself a steaming mug of the dark roast brew from the coffeepot you heard the sound of a thud outside the back door to your apartment, glancing up at the old cloudy glass in the door and you saw Bucky standing outside with armfuls of logs. Running to the door you opened it wide so he could step inside, shaking the fresh snow from his long hair as he stomped his boots on the old threadbare rug. You instinctively started to gently brush the snow from his wide shoulders, but stopping when you saw his eyes go wide;

“Je suis désolé” you quickly apologised, stepping back as he cleared his throat.

“Its... ok. I’m just not used to...” clearing his throat again he avoided your gaze; “Where shall I put these?”

“Here, I’ll help you; next to the wood burner to dry out a little”

Kneeling beside him you quickly worked together to stack the logs, but it was as your fingers brushed against his gloves that he always wore did you stop;

“Your gloves are wet; I will be doing some laundry later if you’d like to let them dry?”

He paused as he handed you the last log;

“Umm, I’m fine, thanks...”

“Really, it’s no trouble...” you stood and made ‘gimme’ hand signals to him, watching as he shifted uncomfortably for a moment before letting out a shaky breath. He peeled the first one off and flexed his fingers; you could see that the skin was chapped and sore. He hesitated as he went to pull the second glove off, watching you watching him.

For a moment it took your brain a few moments to catch up with the signals it was getting from your eyes, watching as he flexed his now exposed metal fingers. You don’t think he was expecting you to step forwards and take both of his hands in yours;

“I need to soothe your hand, I have just the thing. Sit down and warm up, I’ll be right back”

Leaving the room you ran down the stairs to the shop and grabbed a jar from the shelves, taking the steps two at a time back to the apartment and bursting back in through the kitchen door. Bucky was still standing dumbstruck in the middle of the room, but as you took his hand and gently pulled him to the small kitchen table he took the hint to take a seat. He watched avidly as you unscrewed the little jar and scooped out a small amount on the thick white cream. Taking a seat next to him you started to work it into his hand, taking care to be gently where the skin was chapped.

“What... what is that?” he choked out with a hoarse voice

“It is cocoa butter. I use it all the time, I even sell it downstairs”

“It smells beautiful” he paused; “It smells like you”

For a moment you stopped, holding his hand gently as your dual body heat made the lotion more pliable. Finally you smiled at him, working your hand over his palm one last time before setting it down to his lap. It was then that you noticed how dirty and worn his clothing was;

“You’ll need to change so I can wash your clothes”

He glanced down and his face reddened a little;

“I... I don’t have anything... else”

“Oh. I see” you thought for a moment before you came upon an idea; “I think there are still some cases of things in the attic that were my Uncles before he passed away, come on, you can help me retrieve them”

Getting up you quickly made your way into the hallway, grabbing the broom on your way so you could prod the attic hatch out of the way. Setting the broom to one side as Bucky appeared in the hallway next to you.

“Can you give me a boost?” you asked, motioning to the now open hatch

“It’s ok, I’ll do it”

Setting your hand on his arm you smiled;

“It’s a err... tres petit space; I’m not sure if you will fit...”

For a moment you looked at each other, and you could have sworn for the briefest of moments that his eyes had grown a little darker than usual, and the corner of his mouth had been tugged into the smallest of smiles;

“I’m a dab hand at getting into tight spaces...”

You stepped back and motioned for him to go ahead, watching as he took a couple of steps back before doing a hop and a skip before launching himself up and grabbing hold of the edge of the hatchway. You watched as he easily pulled himself up, not before you were treated to the sight of his old t-shirt being pulled up to expose a teasing streak of muscled abdomen.

Moments later he disappeared into the darkness of the attic space, only for his head to reappear;

“What am I looking for up here?”

“Un valise... rouge... err, red... A red suitcase”

He disappeared again and you could only just hear his surprisingly light footsteps across the open beams of the attic, things being moved around quietly until he reappeared at the hatch;

“Found it. Here, can you take it?”

Lowering it down to you, he waited until it was safely in your grasp before letting go, then dropping down with a graceful and silent landing. Reaching over you gently pulled a large spider’s web from his hair, your fingers just grazing across his chin as he moved in surprise.

“Sorry... you had something in your hair...” stepping back and handing him the case you smiled at him; “Here, Uncle was about the same size as you, I’m sure you can find something in here”

Bucky thanked you as he took the case, stepping aside to allow you to pass before he disappeared into his room. Returning to the kitchen you tasted your coffee and cursed as you found it cold, busying yourself making a fresh pot for the both of you. As the old pot bubbled away on the stove the telltale creak of the third floorboard as you came into the kitchen made you turn, the sight before you making you inhale sharply; Bucky was stood there looking a little awkward but breathtakingly handsome.

“I think your uncle may have been a size smaller than me...”

Realising you were standing there gawping at him like a goldfish gasping for air you finally came to your senses;

“You... you look amazing Bucky” you motioned to the coffee pot that by then would be ready; “Would you like some coffee and breakfast?”

Thanking you he nodded and sat at the table, watching you move around your little kitchen as you prepared the early morning meal for the both of you. Occasionally he would get up to help you, taking the plates and cutlery, and each time you attempted to sneak a glance at him. Up until that moment he’d hidden himself beneath layers of baggy clothing, but your Uncle had been a slight man and it meant the jeans Bucky now wore fit him like a glove. The pale grey colour accentuating his thick thighs and if you were honest with yourself; made his ass look amazing. He’d found a plain white tee and had paired it with a red plaid over shirt, the dark accents through the checks almost identical in colour to his beard.

When you settled down to eat you did so in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company until you came upon an idea;

“Bucky, do you know anything about old automobiles?”

He stopped chewing mid mouthful and looked up at you, swallowing slowly;

“How old?”

“About thirty years I think, there is an old Citroen 2CV in the storage space beneath the shop, I’d been meaning to get a Mecanician... umm... a Mechanic to have a look at it... it won’t start”

“Sure, I’ll have a look” he said with a smile that warmed more than just your heart.

-

Two hours later you were working hard at the counter, customer’s eager to warm their hands on mugs of your trademark hot chocolate, to tempt themselves with indulgent treats to take home for later. The loud roaring of an old engine made you look up, and you smiled as you saw the pale green Citroen come to a juddering halt outside the front door.

Watching as Bucky got out and grinned at you from the driver’s side, quickly jogging around and into the shop.

“You got it working then” you stated with a smile

“Yeah, all it needed was the spark plugs cleaned a bit and a good blast down the hill. You wanna take it for a spin?” he held the old key up to you with a huge grin on his face.

Glancing around the shop you saw the time on the little clock on the wall;

“We’ll be closing for lunch in twenty minutes, care to join me?”

-

You never did get back to reopen your shop after your lunch break; you were having too much fun with Bucky. By mid afternoon the winter sun had melted the mornings snow, and although it was cold in the little car, it was just what you had needed – a day off with a good friend. With Bucky driving you had directed him around the area; up small valleys and through old towns, exploring as you pointed out the sights. When the sun started to sink low in the sky and the heater finally gave up, you suggested you head back, and as the sun finally dipped below the horizon you were just putting the little car to bed in the makeshift garage before heading back into the warm.

Laughing and chatting as you unlocked the door to the shop Bucky waited until you’d stepped inside, taking your coat as you switched the lights on;

“Would you like some Hot Chocolate Bucky?”

“Sure, can I help?”

Nodding you motioned for him to follow you, handing him an apron so not to dirty his clothing with cocoa. You showed him how to carve off shavings of chocolate from the large block, angling the blade just so, and surprised when you saw how proficient he was with his knife skills. Placing the shavings into a bowl you motioned to the spices that would flavour it;

“What would you like?”

He stood at the large rack of jars looking bewildered;

“I don’t know... what do you like?”

“What I like doesn’t matter, everyone’s tastes are different; everyone’s palettes take to spices in their own unique way”

Looking over the bottles he stood at your side before nervously pointing to one of the jars;

“How about that one?”

“Cardamom?” You pulled the spice from the shelf; “That would work well with.... here; a hint of Peruvian Chilli. Do you like things hot?”

A smile threatened to tug at the corner of Bucky’s lips for a moment before his tongue darted out and wetted them;

“Yes... I do”

Placing the jars on the countertop you measured by skill to add the right sized pinch of the two spices to the chocolate, mixing it together before spooning it into the little green mugs. Bucky stood back and watched as you poured the cream that had been heating on the small hotplate behind the counter into the mugs, stirring until the chocolate had melted completely.

Taking a small piece of the croissants left over from the morning rush, you tore a small piece off and dipped it into the thick dark liquid, holding it up;

“Here, have a taste...”

He tentatively lowered his lips to your hand, taking the morsel between his teeth before chewing thoughtfully;

“Its good... but... it needs something...”

Repeating the process you tasted it for yourself, nodding in agreement before reaching for the small salt mill that sat on the counter, adding just a flake to each of the mugs and stirring again. Tearing another piece of croissant you repeated the dip process, holding it out again for Bucky who this time got closer, his lips touching your fingers and his tongue licking for the briefest of moments against your fingertip. As he chewed in silence a smile spread across his face;

“Perfection”

For some reason praise coming from Bucky made you grin like you were a schoolgirl back at the convent again, the praise itself exciting you more than anything else. Setting the two mugs onto the counter you grabbed the remaining basket of pastries and motioned for Bucky to sit at the small counter where the customers would normally be seated. There, perched on the small faux leather barstools it felt more intimate than were you in your own private kitchen, your knees touching as you both ate and drank in a comfortable silence, the sounds of the little town muffled by the blinds that were pulled down on the windows.

When the drinks where finished and your stomachs full you sat back a little, smiling as you watched Bucky trace the filigree on the hand of the spoon that he’d stirred his drink with, chewing on his lip thoughtfully before he stopped and looked up;

“What?”

“What were you thinking?” you asked

“Not much” he shrugged; “Just...”

“Oui?”

“You seem to have found your place in the world here”

Sitting back you looked around your little shop, smiling as with each item your gaze landed on it reminded you of a memory or feeling;

“I suppose you are right Bucky”

The rest of the evening was spent tidying up the shop ready for the next day’s trade before you started to edge towards the tempering pot, always drawn back to your creative side as the days grew short and the nights were dark. As you worked Bucky sat at the counter, quietly writing in a journal, occasionally looking up and chewing on the end of his pen as he watched you.

When the evening grew late and you were at the bottom of the bowl of chocolate was when you’d finished your creations, Bucky getting up from his seat and standing next to you, watching you work. When you stopped and looked around thoughtfully he finally spoke;

“What will you make with the little bit that is left?”

“I’m not sure...”

He stood in front of the drawers of dried and candied fruits, running his metal fingertips over the handwritten labels before his eyes lit up and he pulled the drawer open, using the little scoop inside to bring a few of the fruits to the work counter. Picking one up he dipped it into the chocolate with his real hand before holding it to your lips, his tongue darting out at his own as you gently took it into your mouth and chewed;

“That is... magnifique... that was the candied plum?”

He nodded before dipping another into the chocolate and tasting it himself, moaning softly as the tastes mingled on his tongue. When he looked back to you he smiled again;

“You have a little...” he pointed to your lips; “On the left...”

“Oh... where...”

You attempted to lick the corners of your mouth, but obviously failed to successfully clear the morsel. Bucky stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your hip as he lowered his head a little;

“Right about... here...”

As his mouth touched yours you tasted the sweetest treat of all, the soft brush of lips contrasting with the rough brush of his beard, and you found yourself pressing forwards into the kiss.

It was over as quick as it happened, Bucky pulling away and you could see him suddenly doubting himself;

“I’m sorry...”

He stepped around you, muttering his apologies again as he quickly made his way to the privacy of his room, and you heard his heavy footfalls on the stairs stop suddenly before he quietly retraced his steps back into the stop.

You were still in the same spot that he’d left you in, your eyes wide, a look of bewilderment on your face as he let his hair fall forwards as he walked to the counter and grabbed his journal. As he muttered his apologies again you quickly stepped to the side and stood in the doorway to your apartment, blocking his way as he stood ramrod still in front of you;

“Bucky...” your voice was soft; “Please... look at me...” He lifted his gaze a little; wincing as you gently reached out and took hold of his hand;

“Please, don’t be sorry”

“I don’t... I don’t want to ruin anything... I like it here...”

“You won’t... and I like having you here...”

“I’m... I’m not ready...”

You let go of his hand, taking a slow deep breath before exhaling to hide the disappointment and rejection that suddenly shot through you;

“I’ll be here when you are ready”

You stepped aside and let him pass, wishing a good night as you knew you wouldn’t seem him until morning.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**La Chocolaterie - PART 2**  

It took a couple of days for Bucky to settle back down again, but it was as you had closed the shop for lunch one day that you went to find him in the storage room, finding him covered in flour where he’d caught his metal arm on one of the sacks and had ripped it, dousing himself in a coating of thick white powder.

“Oh mon Dieu!” you exclaimed as you rushed over, using your apron to wipe some the flour from his face; “We need to get you cleaned up!”

Brushing off most of the flour you took his hand and he let you lead him upstairs to your apartment, pushing into the bathroom door as he kept his eyes closed. You’d gotten flour in your eyes many times, and it was always surprising how much it stung, so you knew you would have to help cleanse it as quickly as possible.

You practically dragged Bucky across the bathroom floor, tugging his t-shirt over his head and that caused another cloud of flour to puff into the air before you grabbed his arm and stepped into the bath, pulling him with you;

“We have to wash the flour out quickly... Otherwise it will dry like glue”

“Okay” his voice was quiet, almost childlike as you pulled the old shower curtain around the bath, tears starting to run down his cheeks as his eyes tried to naturally cleanse themselves.

You turned the shower on and pulled the head from the cradle, making sure the water was warm before you tapped Bucky on his shoulder;

“Please... kneel...”

He whimpered a little but did as he was asked, but when the warm water hit his skin you saw him visibly relax. You started to rinse the flour from his hair and face, the water cloudy as it went down the drain. Soon you were both completely soaked to the skin, and as you rested the shower head back into the cradle and reached for some shampoo, you felt Bucky rest his hands on your hips. You worked silently, lathering the apple scented soap into his chestnut brown hair, massaging his scalp before making sure the long hair was soaped clean. Letting the shower rinse the soap away you found Bucky had rested his head against your torso, and as you continued to work your fingers through his hair you could feel his gentle moans reverberating through your chest. His fingertips started to graze the soft skin of your hips where your blouse had ridden high, his gentle caresses lighting a fire deep within you that you only wanted him to stoke further.

Bending slightly you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, watching as he pulled back and rested on his heels, taking your hands and pulling you down until you were straddling his thighs. This time when your lips met there was no stopping, no hesitation. He tugged your blouse over your head; neither of you caring as you heard the seams split and buttons break, instead sinking back into the kiss as your lips danced against his. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest to his, just the thin lace of your bra the only thing that separated you but even that small scrap of fabric could not hide how hard your nipples were from your arousal as they pushed against his bare chest.

His hands clawed over your back, his real hand sliding over your slick skin as his metal hand squeezed your ass, pulling you harder against him. You could feel his hardness pressing against your core, and with each movement it created a delicious friction that had you both groaning into each other’s mouths. Your kisses got needier, hungrier, lips and teeth tracing patterns over jaw lines and down necks, all the while you rubbed your core against the ever growing bulge in his sodden jeans. You could feel the tight coil within you start to twist, that long forgotten heat start to blossom in your stomach as you chased your release, grinding down hard against Bucky as he did the same.

When you finally came you rested your forehead against his, your lips touching and your mouth open in a silent scream as you rocked your hips, shaking above him as your essence soaked through your clothing only to be washed away by the shower that had long since been forgotten.

As you were coming down Bucky was about to reach his own end, both of his hands now resting on your ass, rocking you back and forth against his thick hardness that strained for release, and with one final flick of your hips he came in thick bursts in his jeans, a low moan escaping his lips as he threw his head back that only invited you to press soft open mouthed kisses to his neck.

As you were both still basking in the afterglow of your orgasms it was at that very moment that the hot water finally ran out, spraying icy jets down onto you both, pulling you from the moment as you hurried to turn the water off.

Sitting back you met Bucky’s gaze and smiled, both of you still breathless when you heard the little bell above the shop door ring and a voice call out;

“Mademoiselle?... Ça va ?”

The familiar voice of the man that delivered the Cocoa beans called out from the bottom of the stairs that he knew lead to your apartment where you would sometimes disappear to if the shop was quiet. Quickly climbing out of the bath you ran to the doorway, grabbing a towel to wrap around yourself;

“Une minute s’il vous plait, nous avons en un deversement”   
_(one moment please, we have had a spillage)_

The old man grunted in reply and you invited him to take a seat at the counter and help himself to a pastry, looking back into the bathroom you smiled at Bucky as he climbed out of the bath, grabbing a towel as he went;

“It might take me a while to clean up...” he said bashfully.

Leaving him to it you quickly changed, throwing on a dry pair of jeans and a plain knitted sweater, tying a new apron over the top as you ran back down the stairs.

-

That evening you worked late into the night having spent a large portion of the afternoon cleaning the bake room of the flour explosion, it was the small hours of the morning when you finally washed up the tempering bowls and utensils and Bucky did the final trip to the trash cans with the days waste, making sure the little wooden spice crates were broken down so they fitted into the cans.

Taking the steps to your apartment agonisingly slowly you swayed on your feet, thankful when Bucky was right behind you to catch you from falling because of exhaustion;

“Come on sleepy head...”

He easily picked you up and carried you in his arms, pushing the door to your bedroom open with his toe before resting you gently onto your bed. You shivered at the chill in the room, cursing the fact that you’d forgotten to close the window from where you’d opened it that morning to air the room. You reached out needily for his hand;

“Bucky...”

“Yeah Doll?”

“Please... stay with me tonight... it’s cold...”

Through the haze of impending sleep you could still make out the internal struggle he had with himself for a moment, before he nodded once;

“Okay, but you get changed and I’ll go and do the same... We must sleep though...”

A blush spread across your cheeks at his implied comment, but you nodded and slipped from your clothing, pulling on a pair of warm leggings and an old t-shirt you’d picked up in Paris a few years back. You were just pulling the bedcovers back when Bucky reappeared, a pair of old sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his chest bare. He flushed a little when he saw your reaction;

“I run kinda hot...”

“You will have no complaints from me” you smiled as you climbed into bed, patting the space beside you.

He switched off the light and climbed in next to you, as your eyes adjusted to the darkness you turned to face him, shuffling close as he wrapped his real arm around your back and let you nuzzle your head under his chin.

“Bonsoir Bucky”

“Goodnight Doll”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and that was the last thing you recalled before sleep claimed you.

-

You woke to a bright room and a warm arm draped over your hip, a content smile spreading over your lips as you recalled having asked Bucky to share your bed for the night. His soft snores sweet music in your ears. In the short time he’d lived with you it was clear that he didn’t slept well, the sounds of his old bed creaking as he tossed and turned at night, the occasional low whimper as if he were having a bad dream. But as you turned to face him, taking in his beauty in the soft light of morning you saw how he was so serene, his chest moving steadily as he slept.

The sound of the la Poste van stopping in the small street outside alerted you to the fact you needed to get out of bed, the days were becoming busier in the run up to Christmas, your customers wishing to celebrate a Joyeux Noel and to treat their friends and families with your cocoa creations.

You showered and dressed quietly, leaving Bucky to sleep soundly as you prepared the coffee pot and opened the day’s mail. You didn’t hear Bucky approaching, but as his hand snuck around your waist and he pressed a kiss to your neck you almost melted back into his touch;

“You should have woken me... it’s getting late”

Turning to face him you smiled at his sleepy state, his face still showing signs of the creases from the bed linen, his long hair messy from sleep;

“You were sleeping so peacefully... you needed your rest”

He bent his head down and kissed you tenderly before pulling back;

“So what does the day hold for me then boss?”

“Boss?” you smiled; “I like that”

You wriggled out of his arms and poured him a coffee, setting it down on the table as you explained that you needed him to make a delivery to the monastery; The Abbot had placed his yearly Christmas order some weeks ago and it was now ready.

“Will you be ok to drive the 2CV in the snow?”

Bucky nodded;

“Sure thing, I’ll just take it easy... but I’ll need to find my gloves...”

He flexed his metal hand to emphasise his point at which you remembered something, pulling a small parcel out from the shelf next to the door;

“Here, these are for you”

Bucky blushed as you set the tissue wrapped parcel down in front of him, timidly opening the pale wrapping before smiling at what he saw; a knitted hat and gloves set that bore the logo of your shop;

“I knew you didn’t like for people to see your hand”

He got up slowly before wrapping his arms around you;

“Thank you doll”

-

After setting Bucky on his way with a large basket of chocolates and treats, promising you’d make him a large mug of the spiced Hot Chocolate just as he liked it when he returned, you set about running the shop for the morning. There was a steady stream of customers in and out the door, some wanting to watch you create their orders, other buying off the shelf. Some stayed for Hot Chocolate, others ordered to take away and enjoyed it in the sunshine that now made the freshly fallen snow shine so bright.

As the morning grew late the flow of customers dwindled a little as people headed towards places that served lunch and it allowed you to do a little more work, deciding to mix up a batch of the Hot Chocolate ready for Bucky, you prepared the shavings and spices before loading it into a old red tin with a little white lid. You added a label and thought for a moment before writing on it ‘Etoile Rouge’.

As you placed it on the shelf behind the counter you heard the bell above the door ring out, turning to see a man standing in the store;

“Bonjour Monsieur!” you said cheerfully, watching as he took his ball cap and sunglasses off

“Oh, Hi... Madame...”

“Madamoiselle” you corrected; “...and Good morning. What can I get you?”

“Can I get a coffee?”

“Of course. Please, take a seat”

You busied yourself with the little coffee machine that was rarely used; most of your customers preferred your Hot Chocolate creations. When the dark brew had dripped through you turned back to him;

“Cafe au Lait?”

“Oh... no, thank you; black is fine”

Walking around the counter you stood at his side as he read the paperwork he’d set down, waiting for him to move it. Setting the drink down you almost spilled it as you saw half an old photograph and a pair of familiar eyes staring back at you; the same eyes that had gazed into yours that morning as the owners lips had met yours.

Clearing your throat you returned to your side of the counter;

“Are you doing some shopping for Christmas?” you enquired, now intrigued as to why the stranger had a photograph of Bucky in his paperwork that looked suspiciously like a police file.

“No, not really, just doing a little work... trying to find a friend too that we’ve lost contact with” he held his hand out over the counter; “I’m Sam by the way, Sam Wilson”

Shaking it you smiled, but it was hiding your nerves;

“It’s very nice to meet you Mr Wilson”

You went about your business, dipping candied fruit in chocolate and setting them aside to set, with each pass of the counter you glanced at the papers your visitor was now working on, catching snatches of sentences and words, the story behind Bucky’s shy nature coming a little clearer, even if it didn’t give you the whole story. The one thing you did know was that if Bucky wanted to be found he would do it on his own terms. Clearing your throat you glanced at the clock, knowing that Bucky was due back within the hour;

“Sir, I hate to rush you, but the shop closes in twenty minutes”

“Oh, I’m sorry Ma’am”

He downed the rest of his coffee before glancing up at the shelves and displays of chocolates that lined the walls;

“Do you mind if I just make a call?”

“Of course, but you won’t get much signal in here...” you motioned to the building; “Old building and thick walls...”

He went to the doorway, stepping outside and dialling on his phone as he looked in through the window before turning to take in the quaint scene of the little street outside. With the door still open you could hear portions of the conversation;

“Yeah... no, I’m still in France... Not sure, it’s on the route of the old Maginot Line... yeah... anyway I’m at this chocolate store... yeah you wanted to get some for Nat, what does she like? Uh-huh... ok...”

As his back was turned you quickly snuck your hand out to the files he’d left on the counter, plucking the old black and white photograph from the file and sneaking it into the back pocket of your jeans just in time as he finished his call and returned inside to make his purchase and be on his way.

-

Bucky returned twenty minutes later, his cheeks rosy from the chill in the air as he clutched a bottle with a red ribbon tied around the neck and handed it to you;

“From the Abbot... he sends his blessings”

Pulling the shop blinds down you took the bottle from him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a needy kiss. When you eventually backed away Bucky wore a look of pleasant surprise on his face;

“Not the welcome back I was expecting but I’m also not complaining... was expecting lunch but this is so much better...”

Taking him by the hand you pulled him up the stairs and into the kitchen, pushing him down onto one of the wooden chairs before straddling his thighs;

“I want you Bucky...” you whispered through eager kisses to his neck.

He pulled his hat and gloves off, tossing them aside as his fingers found the little buttons of your blouse and tugged them open, letting out an appreciative groan as he saw you without a bra, his hands moving to cup your breasts as you struggled to pull his jacket from his arms. Your skilled fingers found their way under his t-shirt, raking your nails down his chest and stomach as you fumbled with the fly of his jeans, tugging them open and snaking your hand inside.

You slid from his lap, pressing kisses down his chest and stomach, tracing the trail of dark hair that ran down from his navel with your tongue, tugging his jeans down as you gently pulled his hard cock free. Leaning forward you licked at the tip, tasting him for the first time and you heard him curse above you, not understanding the language. His hand softly stroked through your hair, his voice hoarse as he spoke;

“Oh Doll... you don’t have to...”

His words were cut short as you took him into your mouth, holding his thick shaft with one hand as you bobbed up and down, swirling your tongue over his hot flesh. His metal hand moved to his thigh and you took it in yours, entwining your fingers with his as you laved your tongue along the thick vein that ran along the underside.

As you took him deeper Bucky’s fingers clung to you tighter, his breath coming out in short bursts. Looking up you saw his stomach muscles clench as he struggled to hold back, quiet curses coming from his plump lips as you watched him watching you. You could taste him on your tongue, his precome now hitting your taste buds as he grew ever harder and thicker, his groans becoming louder until with an uttered curse the first spurt of hot thick come covered your tongue. Swallowing around him he continued to fill your mouth with his seed, his head thrown back as the hand on your head held you in place – not that you were going anywhere – but as if to anchor you in place as wave after wave of pleasure rushed through him.

Finally he was spent, his breathing ragged as his whole body shuddered before he ran his hand softly over your cheek as he fell from your lips, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip before you took it into your mouth and suckled on it gently. Bucky let out a soft laugh as he lifted you to sit across his lap, kissing you softly before he let his head loll back and he raked his hand through his hair;

“Wow... that was amazing...”

You blushed at his words, biting your swollen lips as you watched him. When he pulled his head back up he pulled you in for another gentle kiss, his warm hand cupping your breasts before sliding down to your jeans and popping the button, slipping inside.

He quickly found your wet folds, his fingertip brushing against your clit as he pressed kisses down your neck, finding your hardened nipple with his teeth as he rubbed tight circles against your sensitive nub, your wetness coating his hand. As you let your head roll back and a bliss filled moan escape your lips you felt his strong metal arm curl around your back, holding you in place. Your fingers found their way to his long hair, twisting the soft tendrils between your fingers as his tongue worked unbelievable magic against your breasts, the scratch of his beard against your delicate skin a beautiful contrast to the gentle caresses of his lips.

When his hand delved deeper into your jeans you squirmed in his lap, parting your legs further as he teased two fingers at your entrance, pushing them in slowly as you felt the stretch from their thickness. With his thumb dancing over your clit whilst he curled those fingers deep inside you, your mind was clouding with desire.

When his lips left your breast and traced kisses back along your neck you looked up, met by the sight of his ice grey-blue eyes almost completely hidden by his pupils blown wide with lust;

“Do you like that doll? My thick fingers inside you? You look so delicious squirming on my lap, so wet for me. Are you going to come on my fingers?”

“Oh Bucky...”

“Tell me what you need Doll”

“Faster, please.... and kiss me...”

His lips met yours in a fierce embrace as he sped up his efforts between your thighs, his fingers curling within you to reach just that perfect spot as his thumb rubbed tighter circles against your clit. His tongue danced against yours as you whimpered into his mouth, coming with a scream of his name as your body gripped onto his fingers whilst wave after wave of pleasure surged though you.

You only realised that you were laying limp in his arms when he leant over and pressed a single kiss to your cheek, his voice quiet but the amusement evident;

“You ok Doll?”

Looking up you smiled at him, taking a deep breath as you watched him slowly withdraw his fingers from you, looking at them glistening in the light before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you for the first time.

In the quiet of the room you could hear the bell in the town market square chime the half hour, signifying it was time to get back to work. Flopping your head back and resting it on the kitchen table you let out a sigh just as your stomach grumbled;

“Damn... we should have eaten...”

 


	3. Chapter 3

La Chocolaterie – Part 3

  
You didn’t mention the visitor to Bucky. There was something about it that deep down you knew your time with Bucky would be short, but you were happy and so was he, you just wanted to enjoy your time together for a little longer.

Your days were busy and long, and with each day that passed your intimate moments with Bucky became more frequent, but you were yet to lay together in the most intimate of ways and to consummate your relationship. You shared a bed every night, sometimes it led to something more than a kiss, on other night’s sleep took one or both of you before hands could start exploring.

When he would come into the shop at the end of a long hard day’s work you would automatically reach for his tin of Hot Chocolate. He would sit and watch you work, letting you try out new flavours and creations and willingly tasting them, his lips always lingering on your fingers to send a bolt of electricity straight to your core.

As you tried a new mix of flavours and dried fruits he got to his feet and came around the counter, pulling the blinds closed as he did so. Standing behind you he wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands lay on your soft stomach as he rested his chin on your shoulder;

“This looks good”

You hummed in response, concentrating on what you were doing until it was finished, lifting the creation aloft for him to see. He reached and took it from your hand, setting it aside before suddenly lifting and turning you until you were sat on the marble counter. His fingers gently untied your apron before pulling your t-shirt over your head, his following suit before he started to kiss across your shoulder blades.

He gently pushed you back until you were laying flat on the hard counter, watching as he slowly unbuttoned your jeans and tugged them down your legs along with your underwear, leaving you bare. With a smirk he dipped his hand into the bowl of molten chocolate that still sat next to you on the counter, coating most of his fingers in the dark liquid before bringing them to his lips to taste. He returned his hand to the chocolate, but this time he softly trailed his fingers over your breasts, leaving a warm trail before leaning forwards and licking it off, his tongue working against your skin to cleanse you.

His hands continued to trace sticky patterns over your skin, his tongue following wherever his fingers had been, and you soon found yourself propped up on your elbows as you watched his head disappear between your thighs, his hand lifting your legs high and wide as he licked a thick strip through your soaked folds.

Suddenly it was as if he was a man possessed, licking and sucking, his tongue delving deep within you as his fingers worked against your clit, rubbing it harshly in tight circles in just the way he knew you liked. You were writhing on the countertop; your back arching as he slung his metal arm over your hips to hold you in place so he could only torment you further, your cries of pleasure music to his ears as you chanted his name like a incantation.

You came with a scream, flooding his face with your essence as he drank from you before finally standing tall, pulling your limp body up to sitting so he could kiss you.

That night the mess in the shop was forgotten as he carried you up to bed and proceeded to torment you with his tongue another three times before you called mercy and begged for a reprieve to sleep.

-

Christmas was growing ever closer, and just a few days later the morning of Christmas Eve started in the same way that all your mornings had, waking up entangled in Bucky’s embrace. His lips found yours and he sought solace in your arms, the pair of you instinctively moving until he was laying between your legs, his weight pressing against you as you arched up to meet the heavy press of his pelvis against your own. You could feel his hardness pressing against your core through the thin layers of clothing you both still wore to bed, not having taken the final step yet in your relationship.

As his lips made a path down your neck before he rested his chin in the valley between your breasts, looking up at you like a mischievous puppy;

“What?” you asked

“We should be getting up, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes... but it feels so good right here right now...”

He pushed himself up and rolled off the bed, standing and holding his hand out to you;

“C’mon, let’s shower together”

That morning you spent so much time under the flowing water that eventually the water ran cold, the pair of you squealing and giggling as you tumbled out of the bathtub and dried off, hurrying through breakfast and into the shop to greet the last minute customers that had already formed a queue at the door before you were even due to open.

The morning was spent entirely in the shop, the shelves rapidly emptying as it would seem everyone in town wanted to stock up on last minute treats, knowing that you would be closed for the week to come. When the clock in the Town market square chimed midday it was time to close, Bucky flipping the sign in the window as you served the last few customers, wishing them a Joyeux Noel as you escorted them out of the door and finally slid the latch closed.

Bucky stood in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush to his chest;

“Wow, you were amazing this morning”

“I couldn’t have done it without you Bucky, Merci”

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and you enjoyed the moment of close peacefulness. As you heard the people passing your shop you came upon an idea;

“Would you like to come to see the town Choir singing Christmas songs with me this afternoon?”

“Yeah, that would be good”

“Come on, let’s clean up and then we’ll go”

-

An hour later you were walking through the snow, bundled up in your warmest coats. You held Bucky’s hand as he seemed to never stumble or fall on the slippery ground, instead each time he felt you lose your footing he would be there, holding you upright before pressing a kiss to your lips. You’d found a wool peaked hat amongst your Uncles things and along with a knitted scarf that he’d wrapped around his neck numerous times he looked snug and warm as the snow settled on his shoulders.

As the afternoon grew late you found a spot on the church steps, sheltering from the weather under the parapets of the old building from the falling snow, Bucky wrapping his arm around your shoulders to hold you close. As the choir started to sing candles were passed around the crowd, Bucky taking hold of one in his gloved hand – that you knew was his metal one but no-one would guess without that knowledge – as his real hand crept under your jacket and traced circles against the skin of your hip. The flame light from the candle danced over your features, and as you looked to Bucky his face radiated a warm glow as he smiled back at you.

After an hour you grabbed two steaming mugs of hot cider during the interval, finding a better spot outside one of the cafes where you both snuggled together on a wicker chair that was sheltered by the striped awning that hung above.  There were friends and neighbours surrounding you, families with children enjoying the show the townspeople put on for free. As you briefly chatted to the woman that ran the Bureau de Poste, her two young sons argued about cars, trying to one-up each other with the countries that were marked on their licence plates from passing tourists. The younger one argued that there had been an American car, but the elder insisted it was only the driver that was American.

Bucky soon pulled your attention back to him, whispering in your ear that perhaps the two of you could return back to the warmth of your apartment for a Christmas celebration of your own. Wishing your companions a good night you laughed with Bucky as he tugged you eagerly back to the shop, squirming in his arms as he pressed kisses to your neck as you struggled to unlock the door.

Stamping the snow from your boots once inside you turned to him;

“Shall I make us some Hot Chocolate to take upstairs?”

Bucky licked his lips as he considered the possibility, and although eager to get you to bed, the thought of the sweet and spiced creations you made for him were the icing on the cake.

He sat at the counter, watching as you heated the cream, but finally paying attention that instead of shaving chocolate from the large block you simply reached to the shelf and pulled the little red tin with the white lid down. Reaching over he lifted the tin, smiling at your writing;

“Etoile Rouge...” he muttered, pronouncing the words correctly as he searched his mind for the English meaning; “Red Star?”

You blushed as he figured out the meaning of the concoction;

“You made this for me?”

Nodding you took the tin back from him, adding the required amounts to the little mugs before putting the lid back on and stowing it back on the shelf. Lifting one mug to him you held your own out;

“Cheers Bucky, Merry Christmas”

He clinked the mugs together before taking a sip, smiling at you as he followed you upstairs to your bedroom.

-

The mugs sat on the little table at the side of your bed, the steam had long since stopped rising from them but you cared little as your attention was elsewhere. You had slowly stripped each other, taking your time to unwrap each layer and article of clothing, setting them softly on the floor until you were both naked. It was then that he gently hooked his finger beneath your chin, lifting it until his lips met yours in the softest kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush to his warm skin as the kiss deepened, eventually lifting you at which point you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to your bed.

Falling onto the old linen your bodies were entwined as every inch of skin was covered in open mouthed kisses or gentle caresses, until he grabbed hold of your hips as he lay back, pulling you up his body;

“I want to taste you”

As you realised what he was asking you turned, setting your knees either side of his head against his shoulders when he suddenly pulled you down and his tongue licked a thick stripe through your folds. You leant forwards, pressing kisses to his stomach as you wrapped your fingers around his hardness, taking the tip into your mouth and tasting the clear liquid that was already pooling there.

You worked together, by now knowing the others bodies as well as you did your own, but as always you were the first to tumble, your orgasm crashing over you. But it was that which triggered Bucky’s own release, your moans as you kept him in your mouth sent vibrations straight to his spine, and as you were coming down he reached his peak, groaning as you leant forwards and took him deep into your throat to swallow him down.

When he was finally finished you let him slip from your mouth before climbing off of him, settling at his side as you pulled the old goose feather quilt over your naked bodies. No words were said, instead he pulled you close and kissed you.

The kiss never stopped, it was soon joined by gentle caresses, his hands cupping your breasts and he pushed them together and buried his face in the deep valley it caused. He let out a groan and reached for something on the side, and you watched as he unscrewed the lid of the small jar of cocoa butter you kept at the side of your bed. Scooping a small amount out he rubbed it in patches over your breasts, his real hand smoothing it against your skin as it melted from your body heat. He knelt at your side, licking his lips as he gazed down at your body;

“Can I...” there was a pause to his words and you saw his cheeks redden a little as he grasped his erection; “Can I fuck your...”

“My titties?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you patted his thigh as a sign of permission.

He nodded and you wriggled to the centre of the bed, lifting your arms so he could settle his knees either side of your torso whilst resting his hard length between the soft mounds. Pushing them together you watched as he leant forwards and gripped the wooden frame of your bed with his metal hand and started to rock his hips back and forth, the melted cocoa butter easing his way as he thrusted above you.

You met his gaze, his pupils blown so wide with lust that the ice blue of his eyes was barely a thin rim around them. His hair hung loose and wild as he reached down and ran his thumb along your plump bottom lip, groaning as you took it into your mouth and sucked on the tip.

“Oh god Doll... that feels too good...”

With a groan he came again, shooting streams of his milky seed over you until he was spent. He fell to the side, letting out a small laugh when he looked up and saw the indentation his metal grip had left in the wood of your bed. Seeing the mess he’d made of you he quickly got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a damp towel to clean his seed from your skin before tossing it aside and pulling you into his arms.

Your lips met his, as if now finding the path to his mouth was an automatic response, and as he kissed you tenderly his hand slid down your stomach and between your thighs, teasing your entrance before he slid two thick fingers into your slick channel. He could play your body like a finely tuned instrument, and soon you were clutching at his arms as your second orgasm surged through your body. He swallowed your moans with another kiss, and as you were still in the after throws of your orgasm he climbed between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance and for the very first time slowly breached your body with his.

You both simultaneously let out a loan moan, and as he pushed forward you felt your walls stretching around his thick girth and you felt complete. The moment was perfect, your bodies fitted together like two pieces from a long lost puzzle, every notch and valley moulded to the others perfectly as he was cradled between your thighs. Your legs perfectly settled wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper as he rocked slowly back and forth, savouring every push and pull, every squeeze and tremor that your body gave him.

As your bodies grew used to each other they yearned for more, with each thrust getting harder, with each push getting firmer. The angels were singing and you were in heaven, your back arched as you submitted to the most intense pleasure of your life, your voice scratchy and dry as you screamed out as you reached your peak;

“Bucky! Oh Bucky! Je t’aime!”

He swallowed your words with a fierce kiss, your orgasm releasing his as you felt him twitch deep within your womb before he smothered your body with his and you both basked in the afterglow of your love making.

-

The quiet of the morning was what woke you, the apartment silent, but it was the chill to the bed that pulled you from your sleep ridden state.

“Bucky?” you called out, only to be met with a deafening silence.

You felt the bed for any lingering warmth, but found none apart from your own. Swinging your legs over the side of your bed you called out again, a tightness growing in your chest that you tried to fight back, but you already knew.

You called out again, your voice wavering as you were met yet again with silence. Pulling on your robe you silently made your way through the apartment, finding the bathroom and kitchen empty, finally running along the hallway to his long forgotten bedroom. You saw the bed neatly made but the space where his backpack had sat for the weeks he’d been with you was empty. You flung the doors to his small wardrobe open but nothing was left but for a few bare coat hangers.

On the bed you saw a small patch of red poking out from beneath the covers, immediately rushing over to it and finding the knitted scarf he’d worn when you’d spent those hours listening to the choir in the market square just the day before. You pulled it to your face and inhaled deeply, his scent still lingered on it. It was then that you broke down, the tears flowing as you sobbed into the cold bed that he hadn’t lain in for weeks.

-

It was late in the evening when you finally moved, your stomach shooting sharp pains of hunger through you as you practically crawled down the stairs to your cold shop. Setting the left over cream from the day before onto heat you blindly reached for his tin of Hot Chocolate, but let out a small cry when your fingers brushed against some soft tissue.

Pulling your hand back as if you had been burned you looked at the shelf, the tears welling in your eyes again as you timidly reached out and took hold of the small package and set it down on the counter. For moments you just stared at it, as if willing it to not be there, to not recognise Bucky’s handwriting on the label that bore your name.

The tears rolled silently down your cheeks as you unwrapped the tissue with shaking hands, feeling the lump in your throat swell as you saw what it contained; a small wooden star, hand carved from one of the wooden spice crates that you’d regularly asked Bucky to take out to the garbage. Across it were the words that meant so much to you; Je t’aime.

Beneath it lay a small piece of paper, neatly folded, and as you read the words you sobbed into your hand, finally understanding why he’d left, that the catalyst had been what the two Post Mistresses son’s had been talking about, how he’d hidden from view when the American had visited your shop, knowing is time would come eventually.

-

4 Years Later

It had taken a long time but you were finally starting to get back into the Christmas spirit, and the townsfolk happy that this season you had chosen to keep your shop open for the Noel period instead of taking a vacation to Paris to spend with old college friends. The shop was hard work on your own, but over time you had realised that all you needed to do was speak to people and they would help.

With two days to go until Christmas Eve you were drawing to the close of a long day when the bell over the door chimed and you turned, taking in the statuesque woman that was standing in the doorway.

She moved gracefully around the shop, looking at the displays before finally greeting you;

“This is your shop?”

You nodded, unable to place her accent, but guessing the locale to be near to Sudan or Eritrea;

“Yes, welcome. Is there something in particular you are looking for?”

She didn’t answer your question; instead she sat at the counter and smiled at you;

“I would like to try your Hot Chocolate; I have heard great things about it”

It puzzled you at how someone from so far away could have heard about your little shop, but you nodded, walking behind the counter and started to heat the cream;

“Is there a blend you would like to try? Any particular flavours?”

She smiled again, her voice soft yet commanding;

“Yes, there is one blend I would like you to make for me, it is called Etoile Rouge”

You froze. There was only one person in the world apart from yourself that you’d ever made that for. Your visitor looked at you, how you were frozen to the spot;

“And I will need to take a case of it away with me; we have a patient at our hospital that has been asking for it”

“A patient? Is he alright?”

Her face softened and you knew the answer, the years of worry slipping from your mind in that very moment. She cleared her throat and nodded to the cream;

“My Hot Chocolate?”

“Oh! Yes, of course!”

Setting about mixing the shavings of chocolate with Chilli and Cardamom, adding a final pinch of salt before you set it onto the counter. She watched as you quickly made a box of the mix for her to take away, sealing it with a tied ribbon and setting it down next to her untouched mug;

“Is there something wrong?” you asked

“I’m just letting it cool” her voice was smooth and hypnotic; “Why don’t you pack the things you’ll need whilst I finish my beverage”

“I’m... I’m sorry? I don’t understand”

“You’ll need your passport too; he’s requested that you deliver it yourself”

You stood dumbfounded; your jaw agape until she clapped her hands together and laughed;

“Hurry along my girl, there is much for you to be filled in on during the trip to Wakanda!”

 

 

 


End file.
